


I treasure you, I really do

by Anonymous_Ostrich



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Garry is Weak, Ib is all grown up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 11:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Ostrich/pseuds/Anonymous_Ostrich
Summary: Garry wasn't sure when exactly it had occurred, but lately he'd been more acutely aware of Ib's beauty and grace than he ever had been. Obviously he'd always coveted Ib's preciousness, but just after her 17th birthday, it was almost like sheglowed. Was it anything to do with that blossoming young woman nonsense he was always hearing so much about?





	I treasure you, I really do

For someone who always had a keen interest in fashion, Garry could never quite remember how to properly tie a Windsor knot. Not that he wore ties often, but on the rare occasion that it became necessary he found himself sadly lacking in tie-tying skill. He didn't usually have to dress up quite so corporately to go to work, but there was a department meeting he had to attend today and ties were mandatory. Not that Garry particularly disliked ties. Only  _mandatory_ ties.

Garry emerged from his bedroom fidgeting with the disagreeable knot at his throat. Toward the center of the room lying on her back on the couch was Ib, her chestnut hair splayed in shiny waves over the pillows, her arms outstretched above her head clutching a book. Garry allowed himself a fond smile as he crossed the room to throw open the hall closet.

"Ib, are you sure you don't mind staying here by yourself?"

Ib tilted her head back on the cushions to view Garry upside down. She offered Garry a rosy smile. "I don't mind. If I get hungry, I know where the food is."

Garry laughed through his nose, pulling on a long, posh coat he typically only produced for important meetings with important people at the company. "I'm certain you know the contents of my kitchen better than I do." He started the tedious process of buttoning up his coat, starting from the bottom. "Still, I worry you'll be bored."

"I'm never bored when there's something to read," Ib pointed out, swinging her legs over the side of the couch and hopping onto her feet, setting her book carefully down on the coffee table, bookmark in place. Her white and pink patterned dress fell gracefully to her knees, swaying delicately as she walked. She stopped just in front of Garry to help him with his buttons. Garry felt his face grow warm. "I can always find something to do, don't worry about me."

He wasn't sure when exactly it had occurred, but lately he'd been more acutely aware of Ib's beauty and grace than he ever had been. Obviously he'd always coveted Ib's preciousness, but just after her 17th birthday, it was almost like she  _glowed_. Was it anything to do with that blossoming young woman nonsense he was always hearing so much about? Whatever the reason, it felt wrong. So very wrong. Over the years Garry had watched Ib grow from a small, adorably shy little girl into a lovely, confident, intelligent young woman. Though he'd never so much as  _entertained_ the idea of being attracted to her, not once, he couldn't help but find his eyes travelling her slim frame nowadays, whether to appreciate her delicate aesthetics or wickedly indulge himself he couldn't be certain.

Their hands met at the last button on Garry's jacket. Ib's slender fingers lingered over Garry's hands for what seemed like an eternity, her skin impossibly soft and warm against his own. Finally she pulled away, folding her arms behind her back, flashing Garry a sweet, imploring smile. "When will you be home from work?" she asked, tilting her head curiously. Up this close, Ib's face looked a shade more pink than usual, her cheeks beautifully flush, her inquisitive eyes shining. Garry had to avert his gaze, distracting himself with the last button. His fingers fumbled.

"I'm not too sure yet. I should hopefully be home by dinnertime."

"Really?" Ib grinned, as though something had just gone exactly her way. "I'll try and have dinner ready for when you get home. Text me if you'll be late, okay?"

Garry felt a familiar heat crawl into his neck and face. Ib rarely cooked, mostly because Garry was always more than happy to do it, so such a declaration took Garry off guard. "Oh? I don't mind at all, of course, but what's the occasion?"

Ib's eyes drifted to the floor, strands of lovely brown hair spilling over her shoulder as she fidgeted. "No occasion, really. I just thought… I'd like to do something nice for you." She peeked up at him, lovely crimson globes framed endearingly by long, delicate lashes. "Is that fine?"

A lump formed in Garry's throat that he had to swallow so that he could produce words. Something was different. Ib was acting off, more flustered than usual, less sure of herself. As he often did, Garry felt an overwhelming urge to alleviate her troubles. "Of course it's fine!" he chimed, "I'd love some of Ib's cooking! Thank you for always thinking of me, Ib." Garry raised a hand to touch Ib's face like he always did, but stopped just short, his hesitation confusing him. He quickly pretended he'd meant to grab his gloves from inside his coat pocket, but he couldn't ignore the subtle, disappointed crease in Ib's brow. "I'll be sure to text if I'm going to be late."

"Alright."

Garry turned, nearly forgetting his bag on the way to the door. He needed to leave, he needed to clear his head. Work was the perfect place for that, if only he could avoid thinking about Ib's beautiful face, her silky hair, her pink, perfectly delicate lips that slightly glistened… Oh,  _goodness gracious_. He needed to get a grip on all of this, and quickly.

"Well, I'm going!" Garry chimed, forcing a smile. He'd barely twisted the doorknob when Ib's voice rang out, halting him before he could tear out of the apartment like a bat out of Hell.

"Uhm, wait…! You forgot your scarf."

Ib's voice would never cease to have an otherworldly power over him, and today was no exception. Garry froze, his ears picking up the sound of Ib's bare feet tapping against the tile. He turned, forcing another smile.

"Oh, of course. How silly of me."

Ib already had Garry's scarf in her hands, having pulled it from the coat rack next to the door. She stepped up close, draping the garment around Garry's neck, her body brushing the front of his coat as she situated it just right. Garry found himself lost in her features, the uncharacteristic bashful manner in which her lips pinched together, her eyes carefully focused on her task as she secured it around his neck. When she'd finished, she met his eyes, and Garry realized with a jolt of panic that he'd been caught staring.

The next moment was lost to time, surreal and soundless. Garry's heart flew into his throat as Ib's beautiful face filled up his field of vision, her eyes fluttering closed so that her lashes just brushed her cheeks. Her hands took a tight hold of the scarf and she gently tugged him down an inch, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Garry had kissed Ib plenty of times. On the cheek, the forehead, the temple. The crown of her head, the back of her hand. Garry had always been affectionate with the little girl - it was impossible not to be - but this was different. Ib's lips were soft, mildly trembling, and the most wonderful thing Garry ever remembered feeling. He lost the sense to act, move or do anything at all. Garry was frozen in place, eyes wide, his heartbeat pounding wildly in his ears. Before he'd managed to make sense of what was happening, Ib pulled away, returning her feet firmly to the floor. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. Garry couldn't conjure so much as a word. After some time, Ib awkwardly pinched her lips together again, turning away.

"H-have a good day." Ib murmured in an unnaturally small voice. Like she was 9 years old again.

Garry stood in place for a moment more, finally summoning the good sense to reach again for the door. "I… Thank you. I'll, ah, see you later, then," he stammered, swinging the door open and stumbling into the hall.

He shut the door harder than he'd intended. Garry leaned against the wall, grasping a hand over his chest. What just happened? Was he dreaming, or had Ib just kissed him? A  _real_ kiss, a  _romantic_ kiss, like a wife seeing off a husband? Garry covered his face in his hands, positively blushing. How was he supposed to focus on work  _now_?

He took a moment to breathe, to calm down, sliding a hand down his face to cup over his mouth. The feelings he'd been pressing down were coming uncoiled, bubbling to the surface as though a flame had been fanned. The idea that Ib harbored feelings for him beyond sisterly affection was lighting his brain on fire. His heart was hammering a pattern into his ribs. He couldn't believe it. His Ib, his precious, beautiful Ib… She'd just laid her intentions bare, boldly proclaimed her feelings and given up her first kiss (at least he  _assumed_ it was her first kiss, in all the years he'd known her she'd never mentioned so much as a crush… Oh god, was  _he_ the crush?) all so Garry could snub her without so much as a brief acknowledgement before fleeing the apartment in a blind hurry.

Without another thought, firmly ignoring every warning his brain could conjure up, Garry turned on his heel and with the haste of a man who was late for the most important appointment of his life he thrust open the door and clambered back into the apartment. He immediately spotted Ib standing by the kitchen counter, her hand over her mouth, his shoulders shaking in silent sobs. She looked up in wide-eyed surprise when the door banged open, her lips parted in shock, tears shining brightly in her eyes.

Garry shut the door behind him, his chest heaving under the thick fabric of his jacket as though he'd just dashed up a flight of stairs. He dropped his bag by the door and strode into the apartment with purpose, peeling his gloves off as he went and discarding them carelessly on the floor.

"Garry, what…?" Ib turned, trying and failing to blink away her tears. Garry gave her no time. He was upon her in seconds, kissing her adamantly, scooping her face into his hands and brushing his thumbs against the curve of her jaw. Ib squeaked in surprise, gripping the counter to brace herself. Very quickly she relaxed, placing her hands on Garry's chest, tilting her head and experimentally parting her lips.

Garry wasn't sure what was right or wrong anymore. All he knew was the warmth of Ib's lips, the sweet taste of her mouth and the way her slim body fit perfectly against his. Garry's fingers slipped into Ib's hair, running through her soft fall, sliding one of his hands over her shoulder and slipping it possessively to the low of her back. Ib arched into him, whimpering into his mouth, her inexperience nearly undetectable through the haze of desire that had consumed them both.

Their kissing became noisier, more desperate. Ib issued a fluttering moan as Garry pushed his tongue past her parted lips, dipping into her hot mouth. She tasted sweet, so  _impossibly_ sweet; Garry held her close, his fuzzy brain taking note of every shockingly erotic sound Ib produced so that he might find a way to duplicate it. Ib's arms hooked around Garry's neck as he pressed into her, gently knocking her into the counter, kissing her deeply, entirely lost in her smell and her taste.

Clarity returned, but Garry thought to ignore it and continue. Pulling their lips apart was the hardest thing Garry ever had to do, but somehow he managed. Ib made a soft whine of protest, her face adorably flushed, her eyes half-lidded and glazed over with arousal.

Garry's fingers curled behind Ib's head and he rested their foreheads together, shutting his eyes. They panted against each other's mouths, both of them still floating high in the air, waiting to come down. Ib rested her trembling hand against Garry's wrist, as if she were trying to ground herself.

Garry absently ran his tongue between his lips, savoring the flavor of Ib's mouth. He let out a shaky breath. "Uhm… I'll see you when I get home," Garry said, his voice gravelly, his throat tight. "I'll come home early, I promise."

Ib nodded gently against him. Garry pulled away to run a hand through her hair, leading to another kiss, hurried, less greedy. He would have ended it there but when he pulled away Ib's eyes were still closed and her lips were still beautifully pursed, so naturally he had to kiss her again. After the fourth time, he physically took a step back, positive that he would never be able to stop otherwise.

"I-I'll text you at work," Garry promised, raking a hand through his unruly purple mop, holding Ib's hand with the other. "And… I'll see you. Later. Okay?"

Ib nodded again, her arm outstretched as neither of them wanted to let go and Garry backed toward the door. She ended up padding along with him, their hands still entwined even as Garry bent over to grab his bag and sling it back over his shoulder.

"I'll be here," Ib finally said, offering him a soft, flushed smile. Garry cursed himself and kissed her again, fleetingly, finally releasing her hand and making for the door. He was sure to be late at the point, but he couldn't care less. A firm reprimand couldn't possibly hurt worse than leaving his heart in this apartment.

He glanced back only once before leaving. Ib was touching her lips with the pads of her fingers, and when she noticed him, she blew him a kiss.

Come hell or high water, he would come home early tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Some Ib fluff I wrote ages ago and then promptly forgot about. Enjoy!


End file.
